Entries tagged with "death"

Why is it that visual artists are expected to explain their work in a literary sense, we’ve already been slaving over whatever it is that drives us, do we really have to spell it out. Look at it, figure it out.

The Object was found washed up on Playa de Ropa Mexico in the 1970’s and hidden away for years by an old fisherman. It was discovered among his things by his son when he died. It was most certainly a bone of some sort, but from what he couldn’t guess.

In the world wide race to build “deterrents” better and bigger than our enemies, who wrote the rule book about going to far ? We already have the capacity to blow the shit out of the entire planet, where do we go from here ? Automated war machines beyond human control ? When will our …

When the Angel of death comes to call you’ve better have a kick ass blaster on your person or you’re really screwed. Although, a blaster against the ethereal may be of no use at all, in which case you go to plan “B”, which is run like hell and don’t look back.

I found myself in the dirt, waking to a mange mutt sniffing my balls, turns out he wasn’t attempting to eat me, I was packing some beef jerky in my pocket which I graciously handed over. The dog was satisfied, or seemingly so, but I hadn’t any clue as to where I was.This wasn’t a …

There’s something waiting for me I think. I can see glimpses of it around corners behind me, following me. I see it in my peripheral, but it’s gone when I turn to look. I don’t fear the inevitable, or the ineffable, but what is it that stalks me ? Freedom ? Incarceration ? I suppose …

The birds dropped from the sky like giant raindrops exploding on the concrete, there was a wicked curse upon this town. All the children vanished on the last day of school, no trace, no trail. The townspeople blamed the new King, who sat faceless on his throne in the lonely tower overlooking the bay.

At first I was in a cottage soaked with blood, some massacre of metal and malice Then I was on a boat, basking in the sun with women who had no faces Then a crowded subway car, brought to a halt, a jumper, rumored around the crowd Then on top of a mountain, watching as …

“May the exit be joyous and may I never return” Frida. Tamira died about 3 years ago, out of respect I won’t describe the details. She was 18 and had a young child, who is doing well at this point, but I feel for whoever has to explain why he has no mother. She wasn’t …

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Artist’s responce to things as the are.

"May the end be joyous and may I never return"Frida. The stranger and more complex my idea's get, the more likely I'm experiencing a shift in my mental instability (not making it stable just a different kind of unstable) . Like dreams, shattered information and a spectrum of colors twirled around and resting like mud. With Drawing I've always found that I can slow down my thoughts and ignore at least some of the gremlins in the machinery. My work guides me, fills the hole, translates and finds the lost puzzle pieces.